The Facts of the Matter
by possessed-anarchist
Summary: RAGAD - An exploration into the love lives of a slightly younger Ros & Guil


AN: I hope this is acceptable… it's been a while since I've been on . Anyway I wanted to stay away from anything too contrived with regards to this pairing (but I may have achieved the opposite)and to try and achieve the sense that even though neither of them seem particularly sexually charged, there is potential there. Also: I present certain things with regards to personality as if they are universal truths, but most of the time they are not (and I don't necessarily believe them) so please don't react too strongly to that.

And it's based on the Gary Oldman/Tim Roth portrayals.

Edit (6/10): Fixed some formatting errors (this was originally typed in Notepad...)

Warnings: Slash

Disclaimer: I don't own them. They belong to Shakespeare, Stoppard, and one another (aaw).

The Facts of the Matter

A smirk overtook Rosencrantz's face as he heard the dorm room door creak first open and then closed. He'd been working since he'd awoke, and had yet to see Guildenstern in those hours and was looking forward to the company (though since the two were rarely ever apart it should be mentioned that those hours numbered only two, and Guildenstern himself hadn't been awake much longer then that, so his unexplained absence was perfectly understandable).

He could hear Guildenstern's soft footfalls as he made his way down the corridor and Rosencrantz opened his mouth as the door opened in order to deliver a hearty greeting when he caught sight of the figure that entered and found all words escaped him. It was no rare occurrence for those with sharper wit or deeper knowledge to silence the young man in one fell swoop, but he was rarely if ever shocked into silence on sight alone, indeed he had been known to exclaim loudly whenever he saw anything that piqued his interest. What he was looking at then, however, unearthed within him a feeling that ran deeper then just interest or shock; the creature before him tinged every part of his being with awe.

The creature in question was in fact none other than the man he had been fully expecting, however what he had not anticipated was that Guildenstern would be naked save for a towel he was using to dry his short, light brown hair. The other had not noticed Rosencrantz' presence partly because of the towel on his head obscuring his vision, but mainly because the desk at which Rosencrantz sat was to the right of the door as one entered, the bedroom proper being to the left, and this had been the direction which Guildenstern had turned upon entry.

Guildenstern crossed the room, to the window in the gap between their two beds, resting the towel on his shoulders as he pushed the shutters open, flooding the room with light.

He stepped back from the window so that he stood sideways on in relation to Rosencrantz who remained frozen in his chair. Guildenstern's eyes were closed as he continued to towel dry his hair, still seemingly oblivious to Rosencrantz' presence.

Rosencrantz realised with a whimper that not only had his voice been stolen from him but also his breath and it was with some degree of panic that he kept himself from choking as his eyes absorbed what was before him.

Guildenstern had unwittingly bathed his body in light, every flat plane and smooth curve accentuated for Rosencrantz' pleasure, his boyish face, newly shaven that morning and his hair shining gold giving Rosencrantz the impression he was looking at an angel.

Releasing a sigh, Guildenstern reached down, absently stroking himself with his free hand and Rosencrantz realised with a start how voyeuristic he would seem should Guildenstern notice him and took it as his cue to leave, utilising Guildenstern's distraction to tiptoe unheard to the open door.

"Rosencrantz!"

Rosencrantz froze on the spot, turning in time to see Guildenstern scrambling to cover himself (and in his haste he neglected to do the obvious thing of wrapping the towel around his waist, instead clutching it to his crotch), falling back onto his bed as he did so. Once he'd regained himself the familiar scowl had returned to his face, eliminating all angelic pretence but, Rosencrantz noted, looking no less irresistible for that.

"Why didn't you tell me you were in here?"

"I didn't want to embarrass you." Rosencrantz answered honestly. "Besides..." he looked away unsure how to explain himself.

"Besides what?" Guildenstern was so irate he was almost snarling.

Rosencrantz hesitated uncertainly; unsure Guildenstern would appreciate his opinion, before shrugging as he decided to come clean. "Besides which you looked pretty standing in the light like that."

"Pretty?" A disbelieving curl of the lip, revealing the sharp canines beneath (any other man might have taken this as a warning -that Guildenstern was as a terrier ready to snap, but Rosencrantz remained sweetly oblivious).

"Positively radiant." This said matter-of-factly, with the beginnings of a smirk.

"Men can't look radiant..." Guildenstern had crossed his arms and looked away at this, no longer snarling but instead trailing off weakly, though for what reason Rosencrantz wasn't sure.

It is here that one must pause and state the facts of the matter. Guildenstern liked men. There can be no denying it.

There are men (indeed most men) who would choose the company of other men when discussing science, philosophy, royalty, money, life, death, sex and marriage over a flagon of ale, or a glass of wine (providing his wont of course) but when the day is through and he returns to his bedchamber it is the company of a woman he seeks. Guildenstern was not one of those men.

There are those men too (who are fewer and far between) who prefer the company of women when discussing life's great matters and mysteries but when he returns to his bedchamber it is instead a man he seeks. Guildenstern was not one of those men either.

No, Guildenstern was neither of those. He had lain with women on occasion, there can be no denying that either, but these instances had been hurried and unsatisfying, and both parties had separated with a strong feeling of contempt for the other.

He did however enjoy sleeping with youths a few years his junior; beautiful, slender, innocent boys with whom he was the stronger, wiser and more masculine of the two. In these instances he could be completely in control, and as rough as he liked, often leaving them in awe of his sexual prowess.

He also enjoyed handsome, athletic, well-learned men, many of whom he could meet at college, curious about their sexuality for whom he could submit to freely (for it must be noted that he was always on the short side, and it cannot be denied that regardless of how heavily veiled by anger and pride, a shorter man will always feel slightly intimidated by a larger man, and when heavily emotional such feelings tend to surface - thus Guildenstern trembles and submits more freely to another man in bed then he ever would in conversation).

Then there were the large, brutish, burly types who he'd find in run down pubs and alleyways who would take him roughly, any way they pleased (who he rarely ever sought out unless he was feeling particularly angry or depressed) who often mistook him for a rent boy due to his earring and cod piece (the earring which was worn mainly by those seeking to appear fashionable, and the cod piece which was worn mainly by those seeking to intimidate or entice - none of which the types of men found in such bars were interested in - thus they made the only assumption such meagre imaginations could conjure when they saw one dressed such as he).

And yet, despite all this, all his friends were men, indeed he could not at that moment have named a single female acquaintance.

So, it has been established that Guildenstern preferred both the mentality and physicality of men and that he didn't tend to discriminate between one man and the next. Therefore, we must assume that when he stated "Men can't look radiant," he did not himself actually believe that. We can also therefore naturally assume that he was in fact flattered by the compliment.

"I'm not sure what sex has to do with it." Rosencrantz reasoned.

It seems only appropriate at this moment to discuss Rosencrantz. He himself had never thought upon the matter of his own sexuality, indeed he had until that point found no need to even consider that he might like men.

In his case, he slept with women because they had propositioned him; the first time there had been no trepidation about it, it was simply a thing that happened, unlike most women who thought upon the loss of their virginity as a ritual. He did not go out with the intention of finding a woman to bring home, and had absolutely no notions of his sexual prowess at all; taking a woman to bed with him was a natural occurrence and a process he could not have recalled to any another had they asked. The glorification of one's libido tends to come from the need to impress one's peers, and since Guildenstern was his closest friend (who always kept to himself with regards to such matters - and now the reader can at least understand why), Rosencrantz had very little need to think about it until it actually happened, and no desire at all to boast about it afterwards.

There was an innocence to his love making that many women adored but in truth such innocence was representative of a lack of emotional attachment; as much fun as he thought women could be he never expected or even desired to see them again after the night in question, or even want to hold them for long after the act. He instead preferred to stare at the ceiling (or stars as it might be) and ask questions many considered inane or sweetly amusing, but few cared to answer.

This should not be mistaken for an incapacity to love on Rosencrantz' part, only that he had yet to find someone to whom he could devote such feelings, indeed he had often thought on the meaning of love and its implications, for he had a gentle and romantic soul and longed to experience love for himself.

It can come as no surprise, therefore, that Rosencrantz felt no shock at all upon realising he was attracted to Guildenstern, because he'd given very little thought to being attracted to anyone, and that when he admitted he wasn't sure of the relevance of sex with regards to radiance, he was in fact being completely sincere, and thought nothing else of it. Guildenstern too seemed unable to form an opinion on the matter (which was most uncharacteristic of him), because he did not reply, instead he just gazed up at Rosencrantz with an expression of mild surprise.

"I don't think you understand," he said carefully, almost coldly, "you aren't _supposed_ to think that about men." Whether this was a warning to Rosencrantz to protect his integrity (for despite popular belief with regards to morality and sin, it was not the act that ashamed Guildenstern but the inclination - a man sleeping with another man was common enough, a man speaking of it the next day was unprecedented) or rather a test for Guildenstern to discover in which direction Rosencrantz' tastes lay, one cannot easily say.

Rosencrantz adopted a thoughtful look. "I suppose it doesn't really matter though..."

"What doesn't matter?" Once again Guildenstern was finding the dynamics of the situation uncomfortable, he was still naked save for the towel he clutched between his legs, and Rosencrantz was still on his feet, fully clothed and forcing him to look up at him (more so then usual). The tension was once again evident in his voice.

"It doesn't matter if I'm _supposed_ to think it or not, since it's only you and I here. Unless you object to it...?"

Guildenstern didn't of course, but he could feel his cheeks beginning to burn and had to look away. He had to rectify the situation, and quickly; let Rosencrantz know that conversation at this time was inappropriate. "Rosencrantz, I'm _naked_."

"Hm?"

"_I'm naked_!"

"Well, I can see that!" Rosencrantz allowed a trickle of humour into his voice; fancy Guildenstern thinking he'd missed it!

Guildenstern's shoulders slumped as he released an exasperated sigh.

"Speaking of which, aren't you going to get dressed?"

The question was so innocent, so straight forward that Guildenstern wanted to throttle the other man for his stupidity (but that would have required letting go of the towel). There weren't many options available to him.

It may have been pure chance that they had never seen each other naked before - they tended to get dressed in the wash room but they had both been known to do so in their dorm room - so he could easily just get up and dress and pretend everything was fine and that he didn't care. The crux of the matter was, however, that Guildenstern _did_ care. He wasn't sure what Rosencrantz had or hadn't seen of his body, but he knew asking him to leave whilst he dressed would be a display of modesty most uncommon in a young man, and imply that he had something to hide.

Rosencrantz sniffed and looked out the window at the sun dancing through the trees.

"I don't mind," he was seemingly filling in Guildenstern's half of the conversation in his mind. "It _is _frightfully hot out today." he reasoned, reaching up to remove his own jerkin and undershirt. Guildenstern watched, wide eyed in disbelief before yelping in shock as Rosencrantz continued to strip completely naked. Where Guildenstern seemed slender yet compact, Rosencrantz seemed almost like he'd been stretched on a wrack (despite being of average height) and his pale, lanky form as he loped across the room and flung himself backwards onto his bed sent a shiver through Guildenstern's entire being. He looked away, also slowly lying back on his bed, tentatively moving the cloth from his loins as he let out a deep sigh that shook his entire body. It was clear Rosencrantz thought nothing of the situation, as if calling Guildenstern "pretty" and "radiant" had been throwaway statements that he had expected Guildenstern to swallow with a pinch of salt. He imagined that to Rosencrantz finding a man attractive and wanting to bed him were not necessarily linked (and though this can at times be true, most do at least consider one when they think of the other). He closed his eyes, rolled onto his side and tried not to think of the naked man lying across from him.

"I saw Hamlet and Horatio yesterday." Apparently, Rosencrantz was in no mind to sleep.

"Oh?" Guildenstern murmured, trying to sound interested. He had never much cared for Horatio, and since his arrival into their lives his interest in Hamlet had begun to wane also. The three of them had at one point been inseparable, and Guildenstern had always felt he'd owed Hamlet a great deal since on nights spent together, after Rosencrantz had fallen asleep mid-sentence due to having consumed far too much wine, Hamlet had given him his first kiss, and on another night orally pleasured him, and then finally taken his virginity, in as gentle and caring a manner as he'd ever been taken since. Hamlet had always been uncommonly perceptive, more so then he, Guildenstern (and certainly more so then Rosencrantz) and Guildenstern had suspected that Hamlet had long sought the company of one who shared his quick wit and intelligence, and as much as Guildenstern loathed being made to feel stupid, Hamlet and Horatio could run verbal rings around he and Rosencrantz any day of the week. Thus the two pairs had grown further and further apart in the advancing years of their studies, and Guildenstern could do nothing but blame Horatio, or his own lack of intelligence, the latter of which didn't appeal to him at all.

"They were lying in a clearing in the wood," Rosencrantz continued, his hands behind his head, "naked."

Guildenstern pushed himself up so that he was supporting himself on his elbows, staring across at Rosencrantz with a frown, modesty briefly forgotten out of interest.

Rosencrantz glanced across at Guildenstern, a tight lipped smile on his face. "Perhaps they were sunbathing."

Guildenstern settled back down, closing his eyes and rolling onto his side with a scowl, "Maybe."

"It'd be pretty silly to sunbathe in a wood though. You'd get all splotchy for one thing..."

Guildenstern rolled his eyes, despite them being closed and tried his best to ignore Rosencrantz.

"No, I don't think that's what they were doing at all."

"Does it really matter?"

"I suppose not. But if they _had _slept together-"

"Do you _ever_ shut up?" Guildenstern had become quite irate, and realised that Rosencrantz had been leading up to this particular line of conversation from the start. He sat up again, scowling.

"I'm merely stating that there _could_ have been another reason Hamlet and Horatio were lying there together like that. I mean you never know do you? And I for one would not be at all surprised if he DID bed men too. He can be quite deviant at times..."

Guildenstern had by now got up from his bed and strode meaningfully across the room, stopping to loom over Rosencrantz.

"Just shut up about it. I want to sleep."

"But don't you think that as his close friends he should at least _tell_ us? We deserve to know don't we? It's not as though we'd start to be on our guard around him, it wouldn't change a thing really. But I'd _like_ to know, wouldn't you? I mean if I had a thing for men I'd tell _you _and if _you_ liked men then I'm sure you'd-"

Guildenstern leapt onto the bed, straddling Rosencrantz's stomach as he hurriedly clapped his hand over the other's mouth. Rosencrantz' eyes widened and he let out a muffled squeak of surprise at his friend's sudden physical outburst.

"SHUT. UP." Guildenstern growled through his teeth, his eyes blazing with something Rosencrantz couldn't quite place, and had never seen in his friend before. He resisted the urge to speak through Guildenstern's palm and gradually Guildenstern's anger seemed to abate and he drew his hand back from Rosencrantz' mouth.

Guildenstern was shocked by what he'd done, after all the tension in the room that morning, all the pretence on his part, and he'd still allowed himself to let his anger rule him, and now, there he was, sitting naked on the other man's stomach.

Rosencrantz was about to speak, to apologise, or ask what he'd done, but his words were stolen from him as Guildenstern suddenly and without warning descended upon him, kissing him forcefully, hungrily and then desperately, his fingers all the while running over the smooth, dark hairs of his chest. As much as Guildenstern had hoped to control himself, he doubted he would ever find a more appropriate moment, because if he didn't he was certain he at least couldn't continue to ignore Rosencrantz' speculation on the matter. Better to get it out in the open, and if there was any action he could take that would avoid all explanation, a kiss was most certainly that.

Guildenstern eventually pulled away, his anger dissipated, giving way to a feeling of surprise that equalled that of the man beneath.

"...Rosencrantz?" Barely above a whisper.

"I'm Guildenstern." Calmly now, almost fondly.

"Guildenstern...?" Slow to recover. "For a moment I thought you-"

"I did."

"Oh right." Rosencrantz seems shocked beyond words but his eyes didn't leave Guildenstern's even for a moment. Guildenstern felt suddenly panicked, wondering if his friend might be angry, for what might be the first time in all of time but Rosencrantz sat up slowly, seemingly oblivious to the shorter man's position straddling his stomach, forcing Guildenstern to rise onto his knees to avoid falling into his friend's lap (because as compromising as his position was, he didn't need to make the atmosphere any more awkward at that moment).

To Guildenstern's great relief Rosencrantz smiled, a smile so genuine that the corner of his eyes wrinkled slightly and he reached up, fingers threading into the others fair hair as he pulled him down into another kiss, taking his turn to surprise the other before rearranging himself so that he too was kneeling on the bed, because having to look up at Guildenstern felt far too unnatural, wrapping an arm around Guildenstern's waist as he pulled him close.

Guildenstern moaned into Rosencrantz' mouth, his own hands exploring Rosencrantz' hair.

Yet again it should be stated that Rosencrantz was not at all surprised by the way things had unravelled. He didn't once think upon the fact that Guildenstern might have a taste for men, or that he, until that point had generally assumed he didn't. All that mattered to him was that this man, the same man who had resembled an angel in the morning light, was in his arms and kissing him and that the blissful, almost needy expression on his face was far preferable to the frown of annoyance he usually wore, and if this is what it took to keep his best friend's anger tempered, if this was what it took to keep him happy, to keep the angel on the surface, then he wanted to do nothing more, for the rest of eternity.

AN: More to come maybe? I have no idea…


End file.
